


the war is over and we are beginning

by lizznotliz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizznotliz/pseuds/lizznotliz
Summary: And it’s frustrating, this place that they’re all in, stuck between what they know - fighting and surviving - and what they don’t - building and living - but they’re in it together.(Set in between the hug and the final scene.)
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 15
Kudos: 159





	the war is over and we are beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "In Our Bedroom After The War" by Stars.

There are things Rey isn’t used to.

Crowds, for one. No matter how much time she’s spent with the Resistance, she can’t get used to having so many people so close to her all the time. Growing up, she learned quickly to keep a healthy distance between herself and others, and the feeling of someone standing right behind her made her grip her staff tighter, made her heart race. Things are different now, and she knows that, but sometimes her body doesn’t. 

Even in the midst of a celebration, a joyous gathering, she can only stand it for so long before she has to retreat somewhere a little more isolated. The party has been going for hours now, drinks seemingly conjured from nowhere, and the ragtag group of Resistance fighters have been swinging back and forth between drunken revelry and maudlin remembrance. As hard-won as the victory was, it was not without casualties: Leia and Snap, Rose’s sister and Luke, and so, so many others. Rey understands, and she empathizes, but the people and the emotions and _everything_ is too much, and so she steps out of the firelight, into the forest, and seeks a reprieve.

The Falcon would be her first choice, but Lando and Chewie are still holding court beneath the cockpit, entertaining Resistance fighters with stories from the first war, so she wanders further away. She finds peace and quiet under an old model X-Wing; she’s not sure whose it is but she lays down underneath it and takes what feels like the first deep breath she’s managed all day. There’s a comfort here, hiding under Old War tech, that reminds her of the home she made in the downed AT-AT back on Jakku. Very little on Ajan Kloss reminds Rey of Jakku, but this - right here - this is comfortable. This feels right. She lays out in the grass with her staff by her side - unneeded, perhaps, but comforting in its own right - and closes her eyes. As hot as Jakku was during the day, the temperature dropped dangerously at night, so Ajan Kloss’ warm nights are another strange gift she can’t quite get used to; they’re not quite the sticky heat of D’Qar, but still. It’s strange, having planets to compare after so long living in one place. 

Rey is so focused on the heat, on the grass under her back, on the smell of oil and the ticking of a still-cooling engine, on getting away from everyone else that she almost doesn’t sense it at first. _Him._ A little flicker of light in the Force. She automatically orients herself toward it, turning her head so that when she opens her eyes she sees Finn. He’s far closer than she expected though - kneeling down next to her with a concerned crease between his brows - and she jumps a little, startled. 

Finn holds out his hands and leans back. “Whoa, hey, it’s me. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to-- I was just worried, is all.”

“I’m fine,” she says. When she doesn’t sit up, Finn frowns deeper and she pats the grass beside her. “Really, I am, it’s just… it’s been a lot and...”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Finn hesitates for a moment, then lies down beside her, on the side without her staff. He doesn’t hesitate before taking her hand and squeezing hard. She squeezes back.

“Are you okay?” she whispers. 

Finn shrugs, his shoulder bumping hers. “Been better, been worse. But I…” he swallows thickly. “I have you and Poe, and you’re both okay. And we won. So I think so.” She squeezes his hand again. “Do you want me to go? If the crowds were too much for you, I can--”

She doesn’t ask how he knew it was the crowds specifically she was getting away from; there’s something niggling in the back of her brain she can’t quite give a name to yet. But she shakes her head and grips his hand tight; getting away from the crowds will never mean getting away from Finn. She doesn’t know how to say that, though; it feels too big for the emotions they’ve already had today. Instead she asks, “Where’s Poe?”

“Last I saw he was with Wedge. He’s, uh, he’s Snap’s stepfather. But that was a while ago.” Rey’s surprised that Finn let Poe out of his sight, but she’s not surprised that General Dameron was seeking out the family of those that were lost in the fight. She might find Poe reckless, but she doesn’t doubt his heart.

“You know when we argue we don’t mean it, right?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah, I know.” Finn sighs. “Still kind of annoying, though.”

“We can tone it down.”

There’s an assumption of a future there that they haven’t discussed yet, one Rey has barely had the chance to even conceive of on her own, but the light that is Finn seems to glow brighter in the Force, like he wants to think more about it, too, so she doesn’t let herself feel self-conscious.

There’s the crack of a twig in the underbrush, the sound of hurried feet, and - as though he’s been summoned - the sound of Poe’s voice. “Finn?” He sounds insistent and worried, and Finn squeezes Rey’s hand reflexively. He runs his thumbs over her knuckles, an unspoken question - _is this okay?_ \- and she nods in the darkness, knowing he’ll somehow see and understand: _yes, it’s okay if Poe joins us_.

“Down here,” Finn calls, just loud enough for Poe to hear. As he approaches the X-Wing, Poe is backlit by the bonfires that have sprung up around the party, and Rey can just make out his tousled curls and broad shoulders before he’s crouching down next to them. He still has his left arm strapped to his chest, and he lists awkwardly to the side, off-balance as he looks over the two of them. 

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Finn hums.

“What the hell are you doing down here?”

“We needed some quiet,” Finn says, as though they had snuck off together, and she finds that she appreciates the white lie. For someone who grew up adamantly not needing anyone, she appreciates now the ability to want someone at her side.

“Got room for one more?” Poe asks, softer than she expects. He’s not pushy or presumptive tonight, not a General or even a Commander insisting he be allowed to come along on her mission; he’s just a tired man, looking for his friends, and wondering if he can join them in the quiet. 

So Rey nudges her staff aside and scoots a little to her right, dragging Finn with her, so there’s room for Poe to lay down next to him. It’s quiet for a moment as they all settle, and just as it’s about to get awkward, Finn asks, “Wedge okay?”

“No,” Poe sighs. “but he will be. Same as the rest of us. Eventually.” He pauses and then: “There’s just still so much work to be done; I know we all earned the right to celebrate but I can’t help thinking about the future anyway. What needs to be done, what needs to be rebuilt, when do we actually get to go home?”

“Where _is_ home?” Finn mutters, quiet enough that Rey wonders if Poe can even hear him, but the way his breath stutters a little on Finn’s far side tells her he did. She’s grateful Finn posed the question, one that was rattling around in her brain when she first wandered away from the party, if for no other reason than it reminds her _she’s not alone_.

“Oh,” Poe says. “Right. I, uh… do you two have… plans?”

“What do you mean?” Rey asks. 

“Lando says he’s taking Jannah and some of the other former stormtroopers to try and find where they came from. Didn’t know if maybe you two were thinking of joining them.” Poe’s voice is stilted, overly casual, and it reminds Rey of those early days after Crait, when he was so ashamed of his mutiny that he had a hard time talking to Leia about anything at all. He’s trying so hard, she thinks, she’s just not sure about what.

But she feels Finn stiffen beside her, and she thinks about the questions Poe just asked, and she thinks about how for the first time in her life the future is so wide open it might just swallow her whole, and she goes stiff, too, and maybe the future it swallowing her up right now. There’s no more war to fight, to junk to collect, no Master to train with, no freedom to be earned. They won, and they have everything, and they have nothing, and the comfort that brought just a moment ago is evaporating.

“I… I don’t know,” Finn manages, his voice a little hoarse, and Rey lets him speak for them both. Poe leans up on one elbow, looking down at both of them, and something she can’t identify settles across his face.

“That’s okay.” He repeats himself, putting a little military grit behind the words, like he’s trying to force them to believe it. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know tonight.” He lays back down again, rolling over onto his good shoulder so he’s facing them both. “We don’t have to do anything else tonight. It can all wait for tomorrow.”

Finn wakes just before dawn, the same way he has since he was a child, because there are some aspects of his conditioning that he just can’t kick. 

His back hurts, fire licking at his old scar, because he’s spent the night sleeping on the ground. Rey is curled up against his right side, her chin on his shoulder as she hugs his arm to her chest. Poe is on his left, nose nearly touching his ear, and his bad arm is freed from the sling and draped all the way across Finn’s chest so he’s cradling Rey’s elbow. 

His back aches, but he is warm and he is safe and he breathes through the pain because the idea of moving either of them is unfathomable.

With tomorrow and the days that follow come meetings, dozens of them, so many they just string together because most of them involve the same people over and over again. They stick close for a while, but then Poe gets called over by some of the more politically-minded higher-ups because he’s still technically in charge of the military faction of the Resistance, and Finn gets pulled away to deal with some stormtroopers that have defected, and Rey can hardly find a minute to herself, so many people want to thank her or ask her what happened or just bask in her presence. They see each other fleetingly, passing like ships in the night as they get tugged along from one meeting to another, and it wears on all of them.

The work that’s never done. The constant pull of responsibility. The distance between them.

On good nights, they all manage to make it back to the Falcon. It’s usually late, too late for them to talk or plan anything personal, but they’re together and Poe doesn’t miss the way Finn smiles when he walks up the ramp, or the way the lines around Finn’s eyes smooth out when Rey shuffles into the common area. They technically all have tents set aside for their use on the base, but Poe told Connix a week ago to go ahead and assign them to someone else; if they’re not on the Falcon, they’re awake and working so there’s no sense in wasting the space. 

And it’s frustrating, this place that they’re all in, stuck between what they know - fighting and surviving - and what they don’t - building and living - but they’re in it together. At least that’s what Finn tells himself when they’re all back on the ship, too exhausted to do anything but collapse. Because he wants to _do things_ with the two of them; not rebuild a government or set up camps for refugees, but selfish things like talk and laugh and figure out where home is now. When Poe falls asleep with his head in Finn’s lap, two moves into a dejarik game, and he’s carding his fingers through Poe’s hair or when Rey gets back so late that the sun is already rising and Finn has to start his day, he wishes their schedules matched up enough for him to confess--

But they’re alive and they’re here, and that has to be enough.

Finn’s negotiating settlements with a group of defected stormtroopers when one of them decides to hold the whole unit hostage. He had expected something like this would happen eventually - not everyone was wild about the Resistance winning, even if it meant offering them freedom and options and a future - but he was still surprised by it, by the gun in his face and the way everyone else looked to him as the ranking officer in the room to resolve the situation.

_Use the Force_ , is his first thought, because he knows he has it, he can feel it every moment of every day growing stronger inside of him, but he’s never really used it before, except to find people, and he’s not sure test-driving it now would be the best idea. He could make the situation worse before it gets better and that’s not an option, not now that they’ve won. Finn thinks he would have been okay with dying in the middle of a war, fighting for what he believed in, but now that he’s on the other side of it all, he desperately wants to live.

So he does as the trooper asks, sits with the rest of the unit, keeps his head down, and wills Rey to find him.

Rey is elbow deep in the guts of the Falcon’s control board when she feels it. _Him_. Finn. Gripped with fear and calling out for her. She freezes, squeezes a few wires that really shouldn’t touch each other, and doesn’t even react when they send up sparks.

“Whoa!” Poe shouts, throwing his arms up to cover his face. “Kriff, what-- Rey, what are you doing?”

“Finn’s in trouble,” she says quietly, staring straight out the front windshield. She’s not really looking at anything; she’s too busy trying to hold tight to the little ball of warm light in the Force that is Finn, so see if she can learn anything more than _he is in danger_. Poe grabs her bicep and tugs sharply, forcing her to release her grip on the wires so the panel will stop sparking. She muses, distantly, that he’s lucky her attention is largely elsewhere; if he had tried that move on her at any other time, she would have - quite instinctively - thrown him to the ground. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I can feel him. He’s… afraid. Or worried. Something is wrong.” She blinks, losing the glassy-eyed stare, and turns to Poe with a grim frown. “Where is he?”

“He’s--” And Poe stops, trying to remember. It’s rare that any of them have a whole morning off, but he and Rey had somehow managed it and they decided to do some repairs on the Falcon. Finn, though, still had to work; Poe had teased him as he left. “The troopers,” he chokes, finally remembering. “A stormtrooper squad surrendered yesterday. He volunteered to do the rehab intake, son of a--” Poe bolts for the cockpit door, down the hall, and out through the ramp, ignoring Chewie as the Wookiee roars at him from the top of the ship. Rey is right on his heels, and she reaches out with black-tipped fingers and snags the back of his shirt.

“Poe, wait!”

“We gotta get Finn!”

Rey reels him back in, trying to reason with him. “We will, we just-- we need a plan. If we get closer, I may be able to feel something else through the Force, let’s just think--”

"You should have gone with him," Poe growls, shoving past her; he knocks into her shoulder as he goes and she spins into his movement, watching him stalk away.

"Why would I?" she calls after him. "This is Finn's job - I can't see the future, Poe, I didn't know this would happen!"

Poe skids to a halt, hands balled into fists as he rounds on her. "But he's _safe_ with you!" He shouts, and he's trembling, and all at once Rey realizes.

Poe gets angry when he's scared.

All those times they argued about the Falcon, it was really about her not going with them, not fighting with them; he was afraid they couldn't win without her help. The mutiny he organized against Holdo: he was afraid she was giving up, that the Resistance would just curl up and die, so he got angry about it instead. He's livid right now, literally shaking in front of her, but all she feels through the Force is his fear, his absolute terror that something will happen to Finn before he--

She shakes her head, then walks toward him slowly with her hands outstretched. It reminds her of the sandworm on Pasaana, gently approaching something that's about to strike, but Poe lets her get close enough that she can raise one hand and grasp the back of his neck, the same way she's seen him do to Finn when they hug. His eyes slip closed, the gesture grounding, and they just stand there for a moment until some of Poe's anger fades away. She's not using the Force on him - she would never, not with his history - but she is calm and unyielding, and slowly Poe's fists unclench.

"He's safe with you, too," she says quietly, squeezing the back of his neck when he starts to shake his head. "He's fine. I can feel that he's fine. We just need to go get him now, yeah?"

In the end, all Poe can do is watch. 

He watches as Rey pops the lock on the room where the rogue trooper took the whole squad and the Resistance welcoming committee hostage. He watches as the lights shut off with a quick flick of her wrist. He watches as she closes her eyes, gasps softly, and then ignites the lightsaber, casting a blue glow over the darkened room.

And then he watches as she tosses the weapon into that darkness, watches as Finn stands and catches it easily, watches him cut down the rogue trooper and then Force-push the lightsaber back into Rey's open palm. Rey flicks her hand again and the lights come back up, showing Poe all of the decommissioned troopers and Resistance staff sitting on the floor along the walls, every single one of them staring at Finn in open awe. 

Poe goes through the motions, helping evacuate the room, assuring the stormtroopers who genuinely intended to surrender that this will not reflect badly on them, checking with his people to make sure they're okay. He does everything he can to not watch the corner of the room where Rey and Finn stand close, heads bowed together, twin smiles across their faces. When he blinks, he can see Finn bathed in the blue glow of the lightsaber, a look of serene determination on his face.

So Finn is Force-sensitive. That, Poe thinks, actually makes all the sense in the world. Finn's a good man with a good heart, and he's always been in the right place at the right time; Poe thinks if anyone in this whole damned galaxy deserves to have magical powers that can be used for good, it's Finn.

But all Poe can do is watch. 

When the room is cleared and everyone is taken care of, Poe stands awkwardly in the center of it, right on the spot where Finn cut down the rogue trooper. Finn and Rey are still talking quietly, holding hands, and he doesn’t know whether to join them or not. They’re something else, the two of them, something wholly different from him in a way he can’t fully comprehend; it makes him feel like a third wheel, like a hanger-on, like he’s not allowed to approach them for fear of making whatever they are together somehow less. So he turns on his heel, already coming up with an excuse to sleep somewhere besides the Falcon tonight so they can continue their Jedi talk when Finn calls out. 

“Poe!”

When he looks back, Finn is launching himself at Poe, hugging him tight around his shoulders, and Poe’s arms come up to hug him back without a second thought. With Finn in his arms, Poe lets the bone-deep fear that had gripped him the moment Rey said he was in trouble fade away. He feels like he can breathe again, like maybe Finn’s Force-sensitivity won’t upset this careful balance they’ve maintained in the last few weeks. Finn sighs and Poe grips him tighter, one hand on the back of Finn’s neck.

Things could have gone much, much worse today.

“You’ve been keeping secrets,” Poe says, keeping his voice light and teasing, and Finn - blessedly - chuckles in response.

“Yeah, well, never really seemed like the right time,” Finn shrugs, but he doesn’t let go.

Poe squeezes him one more time, then takes a measured step back; he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, and he can feel Rey watching them from a few feet away. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Okay?” Finn laughs, delighted. “Man, I’m _great_. Did you see me and Rey toss that saber back and forth? Whoosh!” He looks over his shoulder at Rey, holding out a hand, beckoning her close again. He snags her hand and pulls her in, then turns back to Poe and says, “Rey’s gonna teach me.”

“I’m _not_ going to teach you,” Rey corrects; her voice is firm but her face is cracked wide with a smile. It occurs to Poe, rather abruptly, that she only looks truly happy when she’s standing next to Finn or sitting in the pilot’s seat; that’s something they have in common. “I can’t teach you, Finn. But I can help you. We can learn together.”

“Right, sure.” Finn is giddy and dismissive and Rey tugs on his hand to recall his attention; the motion unintentionally pulls him from Poe’s grip. 

“Finn, we can’t do this the way the Jedi used to. It didn’t work.” Rey swallows thickly. “For all the good they did, they made the same mistakes over and over and over again. I know, they told me--” she shakes her head. “We don’t have to make those same mistakes. We can just learn together, okay? Whatever we want to do, we’ll decide it together, but we’re not bound to anything.”

Finn smiles, soft and gentle, and then leans forward and kisses Rey in the center of her forehead, and Poe watches, uncomfortably aware of the distance between them.

Finn’s curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest and his head on Poe’s thigh. 

He had spent most of the evening sitting at the dejarik table with Poe, excitedly discussing the Force with Rey as she paced the room. Poe had sat quietly, listening and watching and immovable, as the two other people in the room radiated joy and excitement. Rey had watched the way Poe tried to muster the same enthusiasm they had, and the way he failed. When Finn finally started to flag, the adrenaline from the day finally waning, Rey had escaped to her quarters, attempting to give Poe the opportunity to talk to Finn alone, but now it’s late and she’s still jittery and when she goes to leave the ship for a run, she passes the common area and watches Finn breathe for a minute, sleeping soundly on the couch with Poe.

Poe, however, is wide awake.

Rey can see the fight on Poe’s face, the way he wants to touch Finn but is too nervous to do so, like Finn might just disappear if he tries. It’s not because of what happened today. Or, well, it’s not because Finn was held hostage; Rey doesn’t need to prod Poe’s mind to know that Finn’s confession and the display of Force-abilities is what has the General so skittish now. She watches, hidden in the doorway, as Poe moves to put his hand on Finn’s shoulder, then stops himself, curling his fingers into a fist with a grimace. Never once does he take his eyes off Finn’s face.

“I’m not going to take him away from you,” Rey says quietly. Poe blinks, head swiveling to stare at her owlishly; he didn’t know she was there, but he’s well-trained enough not to be startled by a sound in the dark. They both hold their breath, making sure Finn doesn’t stir, but he continues to sleep peacefully in Poe’s lap. He stares at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and she thinks about how just a day ago she would have assumed the look on his face was one of anger. It’s not, though, because she’s hit the nail right on the head; he’s afraid that Finn - that _she and_ Finn - are going to run off and become Jedi and leave him behind.

“I’m not going to take him away from you,” Rey repeats, taking one step into the room. Poe breathes silently for a moment, then relaxes - just barely - against the back of the couch. “I don’t know what he’s going to want to do, and I won’t make decisions for him--”

“No, of course not,” Poe whispers, gazing down at Finn again. “He’s his own man, now. He can do whatever he wants.” The words are warm and proud and nervous all at once and she marvels at how much emotion Poe can communicate, how much emotion is always there, right under the surface of him.

“I just wanted you to know,” Rey says quietly. “I can see how you--” she pauses, unsure of her place and how to approach the topic. Poe stares at her, wide-eyed, until she shakes her head and she starts over. “I just wanted you to know that I won’t take him away. I wouldn’t do that to either of you. Or… or me. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t-- I don’t think I want to go anywhere without either of you. I think Finn would say the same.”

And her chest feels like it’s filled with helium, light but uncontrollable, and she can’t handle the awestruck way Poe is looking at her, so she turns on her heel and heads for the ramp, out into the darkness, wondering if she’ll ever get used to the idea of having people in her life who stick around.

Finn wakes with Poe's hand on his chest, palm flat, just resting there over his heart. 

It takes him a moment to realize where he is, where they are, but then he recognizes the common area and the sound of snoring. He’s never known Poe to snore, but the pilot is sitting up straight on the couch, head tipped back at what must be an uncomfortable angle, with his mouth open. Even though he can’t see outside, Finn assumes that it’s dawn, because he always wakes up at dawn. One of them should get to sleep in, at least, and Poe had looked… out of sorts, the previous night. He should rest, Finn thinks, and tries to figure out a way to get up without disturbing him.

The hand on his chest is going to be a problem, but Finn moves slowly, careful not to shift his weight off of Poe’s thigh too fast. It takes several minutes but he manages to sit up, holding Poe’s hand so it doesn’t fall to the bench. He’s almost upright when his shoulder bumps Poe’s left bicep, and Poe wakes, gasping in pain, curling around his arm. 

“Kriff!” He swears, body spasming, and Poe presses his face against the back of Finn’s shoulder, the hand on Finn’s chest clutching at his shirt. He’s disoriented and his arm feels like it’s on fire, but he can also feel Finn whispering nonsense in his ear, feel Finn’s hand in his hair.

“Breathe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Poe. Just breathe. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“What the hell?” he groans, trying to pull himself up and away; he hadn’t meant to drape himself quite so dramatically over Finn.

“I hit your arm, I’m sorry. I was just trying to get up without waking you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe just wake me next time.” Poe shakes out his head, casting away the fog of sleep. “Geez, bud.”

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing him, Finn scrambles up from the couch, and kneels at Poe’s feet with his back against the dejarik table. He grabs the hand that had been resting on his chest and squeezes it between his own; Poe’s face burns because he can feel it trembling, from the pain and Finn’s proximity.

“The blaster burn from Ren’s ship,” Finn starts with a frown. “It still hurts that much?”

“It’s healed,” Poe says, because it is - technically - but there were other folks more badly injured them him after Exegol and he didn’t let the med-droids give him anything for it. “It’s just a little tender that’s all.” He makes a show of pulling his hand from Finn’s grip and shaking out the whole arm; the pain had been starting to die down, but that motion didn’t really help. “See? All good.”

But Finn frowns again, his face like stone, and he snags Poe’s hand again and starts rolling up his sleeve. Poe watches the way Finn’s eyes darken when he gets to the livid bruise that’s still left behind from his injury. Then Finn looks up at him and says, “Can I try something?”

Poe nods.

Finn wraps his hands around the wound, closes his eyes, and takes a deep, purposeful breath. As the pain rapidly fades, Poe resists the urge to wrench his arm from Finn’s grip. This is the Force, the way it’s meant to be used: for healing and comfort. It is the antithesis of Poe’s last experience, and he has to remind himself to keep breathing. After a moment, Finn leans back and lets go of Poe’s arm: the skin there is smooth and unblemished and when Poe tentatively gives the arm a shake, it is free from pain and stiffness.

“I’ve been wanting to try that since Pasaana,” Finn says, the smile evident in his voice. “You okay now?”

Poe nods, a little dazed. “The Force stuff… is that what you were going to tell Rey on Pasaana?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just… thought it was going to be something different.” Poe bites his lip and looks away. “I would have said something different.”

He can _feel_ Finn watching him, but he can’t make himself turn back. He unrolls his sleeve slowly and purposefully, like the simple action takes all of his concentration.

“I would have said something different to you, too.”

That makes Poe look up, makes Poe freeze. Finn is staring at him, steady and honest; he’s looking at Poe like he did when they reunited on D’Qar, surprised and grateful and relieved. Poe doesn’t know what to do with a look like that. He knows what he _wants_ to do but for the first time in a very, very long time, Poe doesn’t think he can muster up the confidence. He’s not even sure he could fake it right now. For all the good he’s done, Poe has screwed up a lot of things over the last few years, and he doesn’t want to add this to the list.

No longer satisfied with simply staring at Poe, Finn stands and plants his hands on the back of the couch, on the outside of Poe’s shoulders, boxing him in. He felt so _light_ yesterday after confessing to Rey; he wonders if he would feel the same way now with Poe. He wonders if Poe would feel light, too. Doesn’t he owe it to both of them to see? To try?

He leans over, Poe’s dark eyes following every movement, and presses his forehead against Poe’s. Finn pauses, drawing in a deep breath: he wants this, and it feels _right_ , and he thinks (he _hopes_ , he _prays_ ) that Poe agrees but it’s still big and overwhelming and—

Poe surges up, kissing him, and Finn doesn’t have time to be surprised because it’s so good. Poe wraps one hand around the back of his neck, holding him steady, and curls the other around his wrist, and Finn’s grip tightens on the back of the couch as he sinks into the kiss. Poe’s hand on the back of his neck is heavy, and he squeezes almost to the point of pain, like Poe is just as desperate as he is, and the thought make Finn hum. Poe breaks off, chuckling a little at the sound, and they’re so close together that Finn has to go cross-eyed to look at him: glassy eyes and pink mouth and a look of utter surprise.

“I would have said I love you,” Poe says, and his voice is hoarse, and the sound of it makes him flush, his cheeks going dark. “I should have said that. I’m sorry I didn’t. I’m sorry I was--”

“I should have said it, too,” Finn says, shaking his head. He’s still hovering over Poe, elbows locked now because his knees feel like jelly. Poe opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but Finn ducks down and kisses him again, because he can, because he wants to. Poe’s hand slides from the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt and tugs sharply, enough to pull Finn off balance; his already-weak knees give way and he tumbles into Poe’s lap, and Finn’s hands move from the couch to Poe’s hair.

“That’s more like it,” Poe mumbles against Finn’s mouth, and Finn has to pull away because he starts laughing.

“I don’t know what this means.” Poe stills, hand falling away from Finn’s collar, but Finn shakes his head and says, hurriedly, “No, I… I know what _this_ means. I guess I mean… everything else? How this fits? There’s still so much work, and Rey and I are still trying to figure out home and the Force, and I don’t know where we go from here.”

Poe nods, his eyes never leaving Finn’s face as he speaks, and he sits quietly for a moment and thinks about his answer, because Finn deserves that, deserves an honest answer because the question doesn’t have an easy answer. Poe brings his hand up again, but rather than rest it on Finn’s collar he cups his cheek, smoothing his thumb under Finn’s eye.

“I don’t know where we go either,” he admits, “but I can be your home. If you wanted that. We can be each other’s home. As long as we’re going together, I think we can stumble along okay.”

“And Rey?”

Poe laughs, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, sure, and Rey. We don’t have to go anywhere without each other ever again, if we don’t want.” He leans forward and gives Finn a sincere, chaste kiss. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

And Finn relaxes, for maybe the first time since he and Poe spotted Rey right after Exegol; he feels settled and rested and it’s like the Force is singing, the whole universe ringing in his ears. Finn rests his forehead against Poe’s, and Poe kisses his nose, and he can feel Rey running laps around the ship, trying to give them some privacy, and Finn is home.

Rey likes Tatooine.

Not enough to stay - she’s not sure she wants to stay anywhere at the moment - but she does like it. It’s familiar in a way that she can appreciate; even though growing up on Jakku was hard, there’s a comfort to knowing that she could do it again, if she needed to. She likes knowing how to walk on the shifting sands, how to cover her face when the winds kick up, how to keep from going crazy in a barren, monochromatic landscape.

So she likes it, because there’s a comfort to the familiar.

The boys, on the other hand.

They hate the heat, and the sand, and the endless expanse of nothing, and she can tell that they’re trying to be supportive but their distaste for the planet is obvious. Finn keeps muttering about how everyone wanted to go back to Jakku and Poe looks out at the desert with something that might be distress, constantly reminding them that he grew up on a lush, green planet and this all just looks wrong. They sent her off that morning with hugs and an extra canteen, wishing her well on her quest, but she knows they are itching to leave. 

It’s tempting to say she wants to stick around for a while, just to see how they would react, to tease them a little, but she’s spent a lifetime in a desert and she does want to see what else is out there. So she lingers a little at the Lars homestead after she buries the lightsabers, wondering what her childhood would have been like if she’d had a hovel like this to sleep in at night instead of a gutted Imperial walker, then climbs out again and makes her way back to the ship.

Finn stands in the shade of the Falcon, blast shield over his face and palms outstretched. There are a dozen small stones hovering in the air around him, and every so often they vibrate as Finn's concentration wavers. Poe is stretched out on the landing ramp, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and a damp, dark bandana draped across the back of his neck. At his feet is a small pile of rocks, and as Rey approaches he picks one up, tosses it back and forth between his hands a few times, and then chucks it at Finn. Finn throws up a hand, stopping the rock in midair, and the others tremble for a moment before settling again as Finn concentrates on adding this new one to the Force.

Finn's so focused on the stones that he doesn't notice her approach. It gives her the chance to watch him, his progress, and she smiles proudly. He's doing really well. Poe reaches out and taps on her boot to get her attention, then holds up a rock and nods toward Finn. She takes it, and Poe counts down from three on his fingers, and then they both throw their stones at Finn. He catches Poe's easily, but he's not expecting Rey's and it bounces off of his blast shield. He jolts, startled, and the dozen or so stones hovering in the air around him suddenly fall to the ground.

“Hey!” he exclaims indignantly, and pushes the shield up off his face. He frowns at Poe, who is openly smirking, and then notices Rey at his side and his face softens. “Oh, hey, you’re back.”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, you--” Finn looks at the rocks on the ground, scattered around his feet where they fell. “You threw them at the same time?”

“Gotta upgrade your magic trick, buddy,” Poe teases. Finn raises an eyebrow, and Rey smacks the back of his head. “Ow! Hey! It was just a joke.”

“He’s doing really well,” Rey reminds him, then turns to Finn and smiles: “You really are.”

Finn nudges a few of the rocks with the toe of his boot and smiles. “Thanks.”

Poe rolls his eyes. He’s proud of Finn, of the work he’s putting in and the things he can do, but it’s still an adjustment for him, traveling with two Force-users. He remembers stories Leia used to tell on slow nights, when things were quiet and alcohol was plentiful, stories about traveling with Han and Luke, and how Han always felt a little left out once she started training, too. 

He reminds himself, not for the first time, that he’s not left out. None of them are getting left anywhere. He has Finn now, and they have Rey; no one’s going to be alone ever again.

“So, did you do what you needed to do?” Poe asks. Rey’s cheeks are pink and wind-weathered, but she looks at peace, settled in a way that he’s rarely seen.

She nods, smiling gently. “I buried the sabers. They’ll be safe here.”

Finn groans, pressing a hand over his eyes, and he stumbles forward until he’s kneeling at the base of the ramp, next to Poe’s feet. “You really couldn’t have let me just keep one?” He asks plaintively, staring up at Rey. Poe snorts, hiding his laugh in his shoulder; he’s heard this argument too many times to find it anything but funny now.

“Building your own lightsaber is important, Finn. We’ve talked about this,” Rey reminds him.

"I thought we weren't doing the old Jedi thing," he argues.

"The decision wasn't traditional," Rey counters, "it's practical. If something breaks, you need to know how to fix it. That will be so much easier if you build it on your own in the first place."

Before Finn can complain any more, Poe leans forward, grabs Finn’s shirt, and pulls him close so he can press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll help," Poe promises. "I don't have a clue how to help, but I'm handy with a spanner; we'll figure it out."

"You don't build a lightsaber with a spanner, Poe."

"Says you."

"Yeah, I _do_ say." Rey taps the hilt of the new lightsaber clipped to her belt. “Which one of us has already built one?”

“Okay, you two, don’t start.” Finn shakes his head, then stands and looks to Rey. “Fine, I’ll build my own. Soon?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well,” Finn frowns and looks down at Poe, “soonish, I suppose. We need to be getting back for the new peace accords, right?”

“Actually,” Poe starts, with carefully feigned nonchalance; he’s shooting for casual and missing by a parsec. “I thought that maybe we could go to Yavin for a few days. See my dad. He’s got a tree at the house that I think the two of you will like. And by ‘like’ I mean ‘it’s a Force-sensitive tree gifted by Luke Skywalker, you’re probably gonna forget I exist the second we step into the backyard.’”

"Don't we need to get back?" Rey asks.

Poe raises an eyebrow: "You think they're really gonna start without the two generals who lead the Exegol attack and the Jedi Knight who defeated Palpatine for good?"

Finn leans into her shoulder, face turned so he's talking to her only, but he doesn't lower his voice. "When Poe makes that face," he says, and Rey can hear the teasing note in his tone, "that means he thinks he's being clever."

"Hey! I _am_ clever!"

"They may not start without us," Rey agrees, "but won't they be angry with us for putting things off?"

Poe shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. Finn laces their fingers together and squeezes her hand; he understands the impulse to avoid making authority figures angry, even if they've both been working on the whole thing where they apparently _are_ authority figures now. It’s hard to just let go of the things you learned as a child. Poe notices, then looks at them both for a long moment, and stands, dusting sand from the seat of his pants.

"We're not the only ones doing a bit of traveling before the hard work begins," he says finally. "Most everybody had family to visit and people to bury. No one is going to give us a hard time for taking another few days. We'll all be better for the rest, don't you think?"

"And your father won't mind?" Finn asks.

Poe chuckles, and his cheeks flush dark. "Ah, no, he definitely won't. He's been hounding me to... kriff, we were in the middle of a _war_ and every holo he sent he was asking when I got leave next and if I was bringing anyone home with me. You'd think a man that fought in the Battle of Endor would--"

"Will your father mind that I'm coming, too?" Rey asks. She can read between the lines; it wasn't just anyone Kes Dameron was hoping Poe would bring home. 

"No," Poe says decisively. "He won't. And I'll be offended if you don't come, so don't even think about it."

"Right, because I'm _so_ worried about offending you." 

Finn groans again, burying his face in his hands, and Poe winks at her. She likes the balance they’ve found, where they still get to tease and needle each other, but the biting edge has been worn away. Rey’s sure of her place and Poe isn’t scared anymore; there’s nothing more than affectionate ribbing hidden behind their words.

"I mean it, though. You need a break as much as us, Finn's gonna need help building his lightsaber, and Dad needs people to eat his leftovers."

"What are leftovers?" Rey asks.

Poe points at her: "See, this? This right here? This is why I'm taking you to Yavin with us. This is a travesty. It's a war crime. We have to take care of this before we go back to Naboo and settle everything else.” Poe turns on his heel and starts walking up the ramp, his voice echoing inside the Falcon. “ _What are leftovers?_ Kriff, you two are going to kill me."

Finn starts up the ramp after him, smiling fondly as he watches Poe walk away, and then he turns back to Rey and holds out his hand.

“You ready to go?”

Rey steps onto the ramp, shakes the sand off her boots, and takes his hand.


End file.
